The Prodigal
by garretelliot
Summary: This is set during No Place Like Home 2 and is a malemale pairing, so be warned. This version has virtually no smut but I rated it to be safe. I have fixed the problem with chapter three.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters on Crossing Jordan or the show itself, unfortunately, but I can't stop ficcing them.**

**A/N: This was written for a CJ challenge on livejournal. The events in this fic parallel 'There's No Place Like Home 2' and are seen through the eyes of a cast member who I wish had been there. The pairing occurred to me after I accepted this challenge and now I want to write more of it. I don't think anyone has ever written a fic with this pairing before and I hope you enjoy it. **

**Warning - This fic depicts a male/male relationship. If this sort of thing offends you then please do not read. There is an uncut version of this with lots of smut, which will be posted on adult fanfiction.

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Peter awoke with a start just a few minutes after dropping off to sleep, feeling he may already be too late. Calling the reservation's desk for the airline, he crammed clothes into his battered duffel bag. By the time he had given his credit card information to the annoyingly cheerful airline representative on the phone, he had stripped the small room completely, eliminating any evidence of the last year and a half and his time here.

He'd been ready to move on; had only been waiting for a change in the wind, a sign of where to go next. Tonight's dream had decided things for him; this time moving forward would mean going back. Peter left the room the way he'd found it. Its barrenness waiting for the next lost soul struggling find a path back to themselves.

He arrived at San Francisco International with only a few minutes to spare. Hearing the overhead system announce the last boarding call for the 11 P.M. flight to Boston, Peter sprinted down the concourse to the gate. He quickly settled in his seat and fastened the seatbelt. Boston. Home. Him.

Peter knew that he was the reason for the inexorable pull he'd felt on waking. Something had happened and somehow he needed him. It was strange to feel that; he'd never needed anyone for as long as he'd known him. Always strong, yet underneath there had been a need he had never allowed anyone to see. It was a need they shared, the need to be accepted by even one person for whom and what they truly were. Not the public faces, but the hidden man, the one that both had been afraid to show to the rest of the world.

Peter had seen that hidden face, knew the soul-deep doubt the man carried, the pain he endured without flinching. It was a pain Peter understood only too well, the pain of trying to live as only half of what you were, denying a part of your self. That pain had led Peter to a sham marriage and drug addiction. That pain led him to hide the loving soul that lay beneath the cynical facade he showed the world.

For a time Peter had seen that hidden man come out, shown fully to him in intimate loving moments, but glimpses became visible to those they worked with also. Each had commented at one time or another about the change they'd seen in him, Jordan had speculated aloud that he must be 'getting some'. Peter knew that the change wasn't just about physical satisfaction, but about love.

Love was not a word Peter would have equated with him when they first met, but slowly, over time, Peter began to see the man behind the mask. A man who was capable of loving so intently and so fully that he had freely let Peter go when it became obvious to both of them that he could not fight his demons in Boston. Not only bidding him a loving goodbye, but also using his contacts to make certain that Peter had a very well paying job waiting when he was far enough along in his recovery.

There had been letters to encourage him every day, filled with news of Peter's friends at the morgue. While the letters never declared his love for Peter, it was imbued in each pen stroke. There was never a mention of the future when it came to the two of them, but Peter could sense the hope in what was not said, hope that Peter would return to Boston and the man who wrote.

Now as the plane left the runway, Peter hoped that he was not too late. That the strange warning tingle in his spine wasn't some sort of prescient message of ruin or death. He closed his eyes, but found that the feeling of dread had driven sleep far away. He should be exhausted, unable to stay awake after pulling a double and then running errands all day. Except for the forty minutes he'd slept while dreaming, he'd been awake for almost thirty hours. He contented himself with some ridiculous novel left by a previous passenger. The plot was something about a failed writer finding himself in a rundown Mexican seaside town minus one kidney and running through filthy water being chased by bad guys, who wanted to steal the other one.

Finally, the flight attendant announced that they would be landing in twenty minutes. Peter slipped the book into his carryon and sat waiting to be allowed off the plane, once again feeling the full strength of the urgency that had never really left him, only abated somewhat during the cross-country flight.

He was on his feet the moment the attendant opened the door to the jet way. He hurried through Logan, glad he traveled so lightly, unlike his fellow passengers who were waiting for their bags. He made a beeline for the cabstand and gave the driver the address, settling back for the ride through the TWT and into South Boston.

Arriving at the apartment building, he asked the driver to wait while he walked in and check the post boxes; the name was still there. He paid the fare and went back in to the elevator. On the slow ascent, he wondered what he'd find. At the door, he lifted his hand and hesitated for a brief moment to send up a prayer to whatever higher power there might be that he was wrong and the man on the other side of the door didn't need him.

He knocked softly enough that the sleeping neighbors would not have their predawn rest disturbed, knowing that the man inside would hear even though he might be sound asleep himself. The brief lapse between his knock and the sound of someone on the other side of the door banished any thought that he'd awakened the occupant. The quick darkening, then lightening at the peephole was followed by the sound of the locks being released and the door opened quickly. The man on the other side pulled him into a hard almost desperate embrace, enfolding him in strong arms and sending a thrill through him and he was assailed by a familiar scent, the subtle smell of cigars, good scotch and that warm earthy scent he'd awakened to so many mornings.

"Peter" His voice was filled with surprise and a hint of relief. Before he could respond, he was pulled into a passionate kiss that sent a shaft of electricity through him, as he returned the caress.

Finally, breathless, Peter broke the kiss and pulled back slightly, feeling the other man's arms tighten as though he feared Peter would slip away. Looking into brown eyes that had haunted his dreams, Peter spoke, finally seeing the man in front of him. "Jesus, Garret, you look like shit."

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**A/N- Well what do you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer- I don't own, you don't sue**

**Author's Note- I hope you guys are enjoying the as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

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"Thanks." The soft gentle feel of his fingers tracing the planes of Peter's face, testing the three-day beard growth, belied the sarcasm in Garret's voice. "When did you get back? What are you doing back? Why didn't you call me? I'd have met your plane."

"An hour ago; because I just knew you needed me; I didn't stop long enough to; you couldn't have driven in your condition." Peter supplied the answers in the same manner as the questions. "Garret, what the hell is going on? The workday starts in less than four hours and you're drunk practically off your ass."

"I don't work there anymore. I don't work anywhere." Garret held him close as he closed the door and led him into the apartment they had shared far too briefly before Peter had left to go into rehab.

"What happened?" Peter was stunned by the revelation.

"Do you recall me telling you about the Sylvia Moreau case?"

Peter instantly remembered Garret's story of the one case that still haunted him almost twenty years after it was closed. "The suicide your boss wouldn't let you look into further?"

"That's the one, only it turned out to be murder and the evidence I suppressed could have convicted the man responsible." Peter sat down on the couch pulling Garret with him, settling the older man between his legs, enjoying just holding him. Garret leaned back against Peter's chest and continued. "Jack Slokum and the governor's crime commission found a witness who saw someone leaving the scene that night and they suspended me, pending an investigation. After we solved the case, I turned over the evidence and they fired me."

"No wonder you look like hell. When did this all happen? Why didn't you call me?" Peter suddenly knew why he'd felt drawn back to Boston. Garret needed him to lean on until he found his feet again, the way Peter had needed Garret to be his strength until he found his own.

"Eight weeks ago."

"Garret, you should have called. Did you think I wouldn't come?" Peter held him tighter, remembering the agonizing first few days of withdrawal after he'd screwed up and started using again, ending eight months of hard won sobriety.

Garret had been there for him, held him as alternating chills and fever had racked his body and the craving for just one more taste had driven him to claw his skin and vomit up anything he tried to eat. Garret had cleaned him, fed him and listened to his screams and pleas. Never once had he made Peter feel judged or worthless, had vehemently denied Peter's insistence that he was just a useless junkie, and should be allowed to die.

The older man had held Peter and cried when Peter begged him to let him kill himself and the sight of those tears had made Peter realize that he was hurting the one person left in this world that knew him inside and out and loved him anyway. The knowledge of that love had given Peter the courage to go back into rehab, even though it meant leaving Boston. There were several good programs here he could have gone through, but knew he needed a complete break from anything that might remind him of his ex-wife and their mutual descent into madness.

"You had your own problems to deal with. You didn't need mine too." Garret relaxed back onto Peter's chest.

"Gar, I'm going to be dealing with my addiction the rest of my life, that doesn't preclude me being here for you." Peter rested his head on Garret's shoulder.

"Is it still bad?" Garret asked.

"I only want to use every day, but I put my head between my knees and the feeling passes." Peter joked, glad to be home even if he was saddened by the reason he'd felt drawn here. "Kind of like missing you. It never went away."

He remembered the goodbye at the airport. For once, he and Garret had both let the public masks slip and simply held each other, allowing the sea of travelers to ebb and flow around them as they committed the feel of each other to memory. He'd looked into Garret's eyes and knew that somehow, he'd find his way back and Garret would be waiting. What Peter had found with him was something he'd thought only existed in fairy tales and cheap romance novels. He'd found the other half of himself, the missing piece of his soul.

God, Garret would laugh to hear Peter refer to him as a soul mate, a sentiment the older man had scoffed at when put forth by Lily in a conversation one evening. At the thought of Lily, he smiled. She'd been the only one who knew about Peter and Garret's relationship and had wholeheartedly approved, seeing in them each others salvation from their personal demons.

He sat for a time holding Garret close, breathing in his scent as though it were oxygen he'd been denied for too long.

"So what are you going to do now?" Peter finally asked. "How are you going to fight it?"

"I'm not." Garret's voice was rough with too much booze and too little sleep. "I've got nothing left to fight with Peter. It's all gone to hell, there's no point in fighting. Endings are inevitable"

"Bullshit." Peter told him. "That is exactly the kind of crap I tried on you, it's total shit and you know it, Garret. If you've lost the balls to fight, fine, but don't try to feed me this inevitable endings shit. That is a philosophical copout. It's a rationalization for sitting on your ass and doing nothing." Peter leaned over and whispered. "That is not the man I fell in love with, the man I fell in love with came to chew bubble gum and kick ass and he was usually all out of bubble gum."

"Once Peter, but I getting too old for that shit. There's no fight left in me. I'm too tired to kick anyone's ass now."

Peter leaned in to kiss the back of Garret's neck, smiling at the visible shiver the touch of his lips produced. "But you will. I know you, Garret. You may be ready to throw in the towel right now, but soon you'll burst out guns blazing, Dirty Garry rides again." He felt, more than heard the older man's brief, bitter laugh.

"Not this time Peter, I've got nothing left to fight with or for. My professional reputation is shattered and I'm probably never going to find another job in forensics. I'll end up working in some two-bit emergency clinic for peanuts." Garret turned slightly to rest his head on Peter's chest. "I've lost the respect of my staff and Jordan's friendship."

"Garret, you know Jordan. She'll get over it."

"This is the first time I've ever betrayed her. I've always been the one to prop her up when someone else disappointed her. Now I'm the cause of her disappointment."

"Trust me Garret, Jordan can never stay mad at you, give her some time." Peter could tell that Garret wasn't going to listen to any more tonight and he was still too buzzed to be rational. Better to catch him sober in the morning. For tonight, Peter's mind was more on how long it had been since they'd been together. He tightened his arms around Garret. "Now, why don't you and I go to bed?" He murmured in Garret's ear, his tone dropping to a low sensual rumble.

Garret turned to face him, pulling him in for another deep, slow, passionate kiss. "Who needs a bed?" He growled as he broke the kiss, reaching for Peter's shirt, slowly unbuttoning it, his fingers teasing the smooth, nearly hairless skin of Peter's chest beneath. Kissing his way across the exposed skin, Garret circled around first one nipple then the other as Peter closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation. He knew Garret liked to make the first move, to have Peter under him, allowing him to explore his skin at his leisure. Peter stayed still for as long as he could before reaching for the older man's t-shirt and pulling it over his head, so that he could feel Garret's skin under his hands.

It had been far too long since Peter had touched Garret and he actually felt more nervous than the first time, his hands trembling as he slid them along Garret's back. At the first touch across the tight jeans Peter wore, he thrust up against the hand drawing down the zipper. Garret smiled at him and slowly finished undoing the fly, sliding the pants down Peter's slim hips.

As Peter raised his hips off the couch to help remove the confining denim, Garret leaned forward and blew gently on the exposed flesh. Peter couldn't move for a brief moment as the sensation froze his muscles in place and seemed to stop his heart. He drew in a ragged breath and moaned. The grin Garret gave him at the sound was almost piratical.

Afterward, he stretched out on top of Garret and stroked the defined contours of his chest, lightly tracing the muscles that had surprised him the first time he'd undressed him. Garret's usual clothing choice for work was slacks and dress shirts worn loose and comfortable, so the first time Peter had seen him in jeans and a T-shirt he'd been amazed at the finely carved frame of the shorter man. Every muscle on Garret's body was easily seen and Garret's ass was truly a sight to behold, even at 50 it was hard enough to bounce a quarter off of. Something Peter had once tried to do, but Garret had stopped him by the simple expedient of pulling him down on the bed and giving him an incredible blow job.

Peter felt his eyelids beginning to droop and raised his head to meet Garret's eyes. "I think we need to take this to the bedroom. While you make an interesting pillow, I don't think you'll appreciate the experience in the morning." He smiled at the drowsy nod of agreement he received and the two men rose from the couch and made their way to the bed they'd shared before Peter left.

After settling in and pulling up the blanket, Garret pulled Peter to him and placed Peter's head on his shoulder. Peter reached up sleepily and kissed him on the lips. "I missed you, old man." He teased.

"Shut up and go to sleep, asshole." Came the reply, punctuated by a yawn and Peter smiled as sleep overtook him.

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**A/N- Okay there's the little button, so tell me what you think. Sorry the update took so long but document upload was being a pain and they just fixed it.**  



	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer- I'll bet some of you are really glad I don't own them.**

Peter left Garret a note by the bed and took the 'T' to the morgue building. As he stepped off the elevator and looked around he didn't see a single familiar face and the atmosphere was strange. The morgue looked the same, but the feel was all wrong. The air was thick with tension and there were no smiles. The woman at the reception desk looked like she should be teaching high school Algebra and needed a plastic surgeon to remove the scowl on her face.

"May I help you?" She said as though she'd rather give him detention for daring to enter her domain.

"Where's Emmy?" he blurted out without thinking.

"Dr. Slokum's secretary is at her desk." The woman spoke as though to a mentally challenged child. "Personal visitors are not allowed. If you have professional business, you must sign in and wear a visitor's badge."

Peter stood a little straighter and answered. "Dr. Winslow to see Miss Lebowski, please."

At the title, doctor, the old dragon, became marginally more helpful. "I am sorry, Dr. Winslow, Miss Lebowski is at lunch at the moment, but I'll be glad to ring her cell phone for you."

"Not necessary, Ma'am. If you could tell me where I might find her?" Peter decided to turn on the charm and flashed a boyish grin at the old battleaxe.

"I'm not certain, doctor." Her manner thawed a bit more and she returned his smile. "I'll call Emmy up front, she'll probably know."

Peter wandered over to the windows near the elevator, wondering what precisely this jerk Slokum had done. According to Garret, he'd only been there eight weeks and already the relaxed, family feel to the place was gone, it was sterile and cold now. Even when Peter had been on the outside of the family, he'd felt the warmth of the place. Now it felt like just a place to work.

If he couldn't track Lily down, he'd wait out by the entrance and catch her as she came back. He really needed the inside scoop on what had been going on if he was going to help Garret. Not to mention needing her help to get Garret to open up about what he was feeling, Lily understood him better than anyone, including Peter.

"Dr. Winslow?" He turned at the pleased question in the voice behind him to see the diminutive, hyper Emmy, still looking much the same as when he'd left. She walked up almost hesitantly, until Peter stepped forward and engulfed her in a hug.

"Emmy, I thought you finally gave up on the Dr. Winslow bit and decided to call me Peter." Even though Peter hadn't known Emmy all that well he was relieved to see a familiar face. He lifted her off the floor as he hugged her.

"Well, I didn't realize we were running a singles bar." A cold voice came from behind Peter and he felt Emmy stiffen. Setting her down he turned to face the man he assumed was Jack Slokum.

"Dr. Slokum?" He held out his hand and waited for the man to reciprocate. "I'm Dr. Peter Winslow, San Francisco Medical Examiner's Office. I used to work here and dropped by to see my old colleagues."

Slokum looked at Peter's hand without taking it. "Ah yes, the drug addict who left abruptly. I have read your file, Doctor. Given your reason for leaving, I assume you're not hoping for your old job back." Once Peter would have dealt with this kind of asshole by trying to beat the shit out of him, but one of the things he was learning was to not let other people to push his buttons.

Peter looked the man up and down, drawing on the subtle arrogant posture he'd seen his stepfather display when dealing with professional and social 'inferiors', which to Thomas Winslow meant anyone not in his 'circle'. Finally, drawing himself up to his full height, he looked down at the smaller man. "You are an arrogant little wart aren't you and with a classic example of a Napoleon complex on top of it."

"Excuse me?" This guy was going to be too easy, Peter thought.

"I can excuse your bad manners, Dr. Slokum, but I'm afraid there is no excuse for your arrogance and poor people skills. Good day, Doctor. " He turned his back on Slokum and looked at the wide-eyed Emmy. "Lily?" He asked quietly.

Emmy mouthed the word 'Malone's' and Peter punched the down button on the elevator controls. "Bye Emmy."

"Goodbye Peter." She waved as he entered the elevator.

Malone's looked the same as it ever had as Peter entered, looking around for Lily. Spotting her at a table with her back to him, he slipped quietly up behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Hello Gorgeous." She jumped and then turned slowly. Realizing whom it was she leapt up and threw her arms around him.

"Oh, Peter, you're home!" Lily reached up to kiss him on the cheek but he turned his head and captured her lips bending her backwards as if they were in an old movie.

"Gonna slip me some tongue, sexy?" He jokingly whispered against her lips. She giggled as he lifted her back to her feet, sat across from her and reached out to snag a french fry.

Peter tried to wrap his brain around the change in his friend. This was not his free spirited Lily, dressed so conservatively that she looked like a librarian. "Emmy told me where to find you. Love the new look, by the way, but I thought you dressed for comfort and fun?"

"Not in 'Dr. Slokum's morgue'." Lily sighed with frustration. "So you've seen what it's like now?" She gestured in the direction of the morgue building, visible through the large front window on her right. "God, I hate this Peter. Garret may have deserved a reprimand, but not this. They've made him the scapegoat and now Slokum's determined to turn the place into a 'model of efficiency'. He's driving us all crazy."

"I met the creep when I went by to see if you were there." Peter rolled his eyes. "Charming personality. He knew who I was and not in a good way. He basically told everyone at the reception desk about why I left. I swear if I'd run up across the asshole before rehab, I'd have... never mind."

Peter checked his anger at the little jerk and took a deep breath. The last thing he needed to do now was indulge in righteous anger, he had enough to deal with without falling into old patterns and he knew that it would eat him to the bone if he let it. The anger he'd felt at the doctor who'd supplied him and Allison had been his excuse to start using again. He couldn't afford to go down that path again; he'd fought too hard to get clean the second time around.

"Speaking of new looks, are you going for a beard?" Lily reached over and ran her fingers across his cheek.

"No, just too many double shifts and didn't take time to shave. I'm getting rid of it this afternoon." Peter scratched his chin. "It itches and besides, I found a couple of gray hairs in it this morning."

"Heaven forbid Peter Winslow should look old, huh?" Lily laughed. Peter's vanity about his looks was something Lily and Garret had both loved to tweak him about.

"Hey, I like to date old guys, not look like one." God, he'd missed teasing with Lily, her sense of humor was something he really could have used while he was in rehab.

"When did you get back?" She asked grinning at his antics as he grabbed another fry and stole a sip of her drink. "Does Garret know you're in town?"

"About 3a.m. and I should hope so after sleeping next to me the rest of the night." He smiled at her then turned serious. "Lily have you seen him?"

"Not since he left the morgue the last time, I went over several times but he wouldn't answer his door and when I called him from out in the hall, he told me to go home." Lily said, seeming very defeated by the entire situation. "I've never seen him like this Peter, he doesn't seem to care and I'm pretty sure he was drunk."

"Very, by the time I got to his place." Peter agreed. "Look Lily, I came home because, well, I had this dream and I just knew I needed to be here. Garret wasn't talking much last night, but I got the feeling that he hadn't seen any of you since he was suspended. I know Jordan is pissed about what happened, but I need to know what the others are thinking."

"Everyone's pretty much in a state of shock, I mean first Garret gets suspended, and then Woody gets shot..."

"What! When was Woody shot? Is he okay?" Peter sputtered, the questions tumbling out almost too fast to understand.

Lily spent several minutes bringing Peter up to speed on the events of the last several weeks. It seemed he'd flown straight into a hornet's nest of problems not just for Garret, but the rest of the morgue family as well.

He ached for Jordan, who it seemed had finally overcome her issues enough to open up to Woody only to be shut out by the cop; he wondered if she'd be able to handle the Woody situation without running away. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the subject of the staff's reaction to Garret's suspension and the speculation as to why he would hide evidence.

"We all know that Garret had his reasons for what he did and I don't think anyone believes that he knew that it was a murder to begin with, it's just..." She spread her hands as if to indicate the confusion of the staff at their boss' behavior

"Well, I know some of what went down with the case the first time around. Did you know that Garret has kept that file in his desk all these years?" Lily shook her head. "He told me about the case once. It's the reason he was always telling all of us that we had to find out, not just the facts, but also the truth. That our job was very important, that we had to speak for the dead."

"What are we going to do Peter? He sounded so defeated on the phone." Lily leaned her cheek on her hand.

"Help him find the fight again, somehow." Peter answered wondering exactly what way they could accomplish that. "The only problem is how?"

"Jordan." Lily said. "If we can get Jordan over being pissed at him, she'll be able to talk some sense into him."

"Think you can get her to listen?" Peter asked, knowing that Lily was the closest thing Jordan had to a best friend other than Garret.

"I hope so. But how do we explain you back and staying with Garret?"

"I think it's time that Jordan knew the truth about her 'bestest girlfriend', don't you?" Peter grinned imaging the shocked look on Jordan's face when she discovered not only that her boss swung both ways, but had been in a serious relationship with Peter. That would be a real 'Kodak' moment.

"You're gonna 'out' Garret to Jordan." Lily sounded astonished.

"Nope, Garret is, he just doesn't know it yet." He answered briefly. "Man, wouldn't I love to be there for that conversation. I think it's one of the things he needs to do. One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that being honest with yourself and those close to you is very important to staying sober and mentally balanced." Peter picked up another fry and popped it in his mouth. "I don't want to force him to come out to the world in general, but he needs to tell the people he loves. He doesn't need anything else tearing at his gut right now."

Peter knew he still needed to come out to the rest of his family and friends. He'd already started the process by having a long talk with his half-sister Jeannette, whose response had been 'yeah and?'. He still couldn't believe that the brat had known for so long, longer than Peter actually, as she'd always questioned his marriage to Allison. He'd told her that he'd wished she'd shared the information with him. It might have saved him some rough shit while he figured himself out.

"Wow, you really did some growing, didn't you?" Lily took his hand and smiled. "I like this grown up Peter a lot."

"No more 'delightfully arrogant trust fund baby'?" He grinned at the memory of the painfully accurate description Nigel had given of him when he thought Peter was out of earshot.

"Nigel is going to be embarrassed that you heard that." Lily laughed.

"Why? He was absolutely right, I was a rich prick." Peter admitted. "Silver spoon and the whole nine yards. Thankfully, I'm getting over myself."

"I have to get back before I'm late. Call me tonight?" Lily rose as Peter got her chair.

"You got it. I'd invite you over for dinner, but I don't know if Garret will be up for anyone." Peter said as they walked to the door. "I'll walk you back."

"That's okay. Besides the 'T' entrance is in the opposite direction." Lily hugged him. "Call me later, okay?"

He kissed her cheek. "You betcha, beautiful."

Peter watched her walk across the street and then turned back toward the 'T'. He should have just enough time to shop for some food and get back to the apartment before Garret had a chance to get too drunk for them to talk. He'd decided that morning that while he couldn't make Garret stop drinking so much, he could at least make certain there was more in the house for him to eat than old take out and chips.

**A/N- Okay so speak up and tell me what you think. I'm especially interested in what you guys think of how I did on Lily. She's a hard one for me to write .**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer- Yeah I know you know and you know I know, but for those who don't know; I'm not rich, so they're not mine.

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Malone's looked the same as it ever had as Peter entered, looking around for Lily. Spotting her at a table with her back to him, he slipped quietly up behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Hello Gorgeous." She jumped and then turned slowly. Realizing whom it was she leapt up and threw her arms around him.

"Oh, Peter, you're home!" Lily reached up to kiss him on the cheek but he turned his head and captured her lips bending her backwards as if they were in an old movie.

"Gonna slip me some tongue, sexy?" He jokingly whispered against her lips. She giggled as he lifted her back to her feet, sat across from her and reached out to snag a french fry.

Peter tried to wrap his brain around the change in his friend. This was not his free spirited Lily, dressed so conservatively that she looked like a librarian. "Emmy told me where to find you. Love the new look, by the way, but I thought you dressed for comfort and fun?"

"Not in 'Dr. Slokum's morgue'." Lily sighed with frustration. "So you've seen what it's like now?" She gestured in the direction of the morgue building, visible through the large front window on her right. "God, I hate this Peter. Garret may have deserved a reprimand, but not this. They've made him the scapegoat and now Slokum's determined to turn the place into a 'model of efficiency'. He's driving us all crazy."

"I met the creep when I went by to see if you were there." Peter rolled his eyes. "Charming personality. He knew who I was and not in a good way. He basically told everyone at the reception desk about why I left. I swear if I'd run up across the asshole before rehab, I'd have... never mind."

Peter checked his anger at the little jerk and took a deep breath. The last thing he needed to do now was indulge in righteous anger, he had enough to deal with without falling into old patterns and he knew that it would eat him to the bone if he let it. The anger he'd felt at the doctor who'd supplied him and Allison had been his excuse to start using again. He couldn't afford to go down that path again; he'd fought too hard to get clean the second time around.

"Speaking of new looks, are you going for a beard?" Lily reached over and ran her fingers across his cheek.

"No, just too many double shifts and didn't take time to shave. I'm getting rid of it this afternoon." Peter scratched his chin. "It itches and besides, I found a couple of gray hairs in it this morning."

"Heaven forbid Peter Winslow should look old, huh?" Lily laughed. Peter's vanity about his looks was something Lily and Garret had both loved to tweak him about.

"Hey, I like to date old guys, not look like one." God, he'd missed teasing with Lily, her sense of humor was something he really could have used while he was in rehab.

"When did you get back?" She asked grinning at his antics as he grabbed another fry and stole a sip of her drink. "Does Garret know you're in town?"

"About 3a.m. and I should hope so after sleeping next to me the rest of the night." He smiled at her then turned serious. "Lily have you seen him?"

"Not since he left the morgue the last time, I went over several times but he wouldn't answer his door and when I called him from out in the hall, he told me to go home." Lily said, seeming very defeated by the entire situation. "I've never seen him like this Peter, he doesn't seem to care and I'm pretty sure he was drunk."

"Very, by the time I got to his place." Peter agreed. "Look Lily, I came home because, well, I had this dream and I just knew I needed to be here. Garret wasn't talking much last night, but I got the feeling that he hadn't seen any of you since he was suspended. I know Jordan is pissed about what happened, but I need to know what the others are thinking."

"Everyone's pretty much in a state of shock, I mean first Garret gets suspended, and then Woody gets shot..."

"What! When was Woody shot? Is he okay?" Peter sputtered, the questions tumbling out almost too fast to understand.

Lily spent several minutes bringing Peter up to speed on the events of the last several weeks. It seemed he'd flown straight into a hornet's nest of problems not just for Garret, but the rest of the morgue family as well.

He ached for Jordan, who it seemed had finally overcome her issues enough to open up to Woody only to be shut out by the cop; he wondered if she'd be able to handle the Woody situation without running away. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the subject of the staff's reaction to Garret's suspension and the speculation as to why he would hide evidence.

"We all know that Garret had his reasons for what he did and I don't think anyone believes that he knew that it was a murder to begin with, it's just..." She spread her hands as if to indicate the confusion of the staff at their boss' behavior

"Well, I know some of what went down with the case the first time around. Did you know that Garret has kept that file in his desk all these years?" Lily shook her head. "He told me about the case once. It's the reason he was always telling all of us that we had to find out, not just the facts, but also the truth. That our job was very important, that we had to speak for the dead."

"What are we going to do Peter? He sounded so defeated on the phone." Lily leaned her cheek on her hand.

"Help him find the fight again, somehow." Peter answered wondering exactly what way they could accomplish that. "The only problem is how?"

"Jordan." Lily said. "If we can get Jordan over being pissed at him, she'll be able to talk some sense into him."

"Think you can get her to listen?" Peter asked, knowing that Lily was the closest thing Jordan had to a best friend other than Garret.

"I hope so. But how do we explain you back and staying with Garret?"

"I think it's time that Jordan knew the truth about her 'bestest girlfriend', don't you?" Peter grinned imaging the shocked look on Jordan's face when she discovered not only that her boss swung both ways, but had been in a serious relationship with Peter. That would be a real 'Kodak' moment.

"You're gonna 'out' Garret to Jordan." Lily sounded astonished.

"Nope, Garret is, he just doesn't know it yet." He answered briefly. "Man, wouldn't I love to be there for that conversation. I think it's one of the things he needs to do. One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that being honest with yourself and those close to you is very important to staying sober and mentally balanced." Peter picked up another fry and popped it in his mouth. "I don't want to force him to come out to the world in general, but he needs to tell the people he loves. He doesn't need anything else tearing at his gut right now."

Peter knew he still needed to come out to the rest of his family and friends. He'd already started the process by having a long talk with his half-sister Jeannette, whose response had been 'yeah and?'. He still couldn't believe that the brat had known for so long, longer than Peter actually, as she'd always questioned his marriage to Allison. He'd told her that he'd wished she'd shared the information with him. It might have saved him some rough shit while he figured himself out.

"Wow, you really did some growing, didn't you?" Lily took his hand and smiled. "I like this grown up Peter a lot."

"No more 'delightfully arrogant trust fund baby'?" He grinned at the memory of the painfully accurate description Nigel had given of him when he thought Peter was out of earshot.

"Nigel is going to be embarrassed that you heard that." Lily laughed.

"Why? He was absolutely right, I was a rich prick." Peter admitted. "Silver spoon and the whole nine yards. Thankfully, I'm getting over myself."

"I have to get back before I'm late. Call me tonight?" Lily rose as Peter got her chair.

"You got it. I'd invite you over for dinner, but I don't know if Garret will be up for anyone." Peter said as they walked to the door. "I'll walk you back."

"That's okay. Besides the 'T' entrance is in the opposite direction." Lily hugged him. "Call me later, okay?"

He kissed her cheek. "You betcha, beautiful."

Peter watched her walk across the street and then turned back toward the 'T'. He should have just enough time to shop for some food and get back to the apartment before Garret had a chance to get too drunk for them to talk. He'd decided that morning that while he couldn't make Garret stop drinking so much, he could at least make certain there was more in the house for him to eat than old take out and chips.

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**A/N- Express yourself. And thank you to Butterfly Heaven and jtbwriter who have reviewed consistently, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this fic.**  



	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer- Not mine and never will be (sigh). Oh well, I can play with them in fic.

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Peter let himself in with the key Garret had insisted he take with him to San Francisco and carried the bags of groceries to the kitchen. He went to check on Garret and found him still asleep, wrapped around Peter's pillow. He walked softly back to the kitchen and turned on the radio. After putting away the things he'd bought, starting dinner and cleaning the apartment, Peter sat down with the book he'd taken from the airplane and occupied himself for a couple of hours.

When he looked up at the sound of the shower running, it was after six and the sun was behind the buildings across the street. He headed to the kitchen, checked on dinner and sat waiting for Garret to make an appearance. He'd brought all the booze into the kitchen so that Garret couldn't avoid him without forgoing a drink.

"Damn." He heard the growl of Garret discovering the lack of scotch in the study, soon followed by "Peter!" from the living room.

"Where the hell..." Garret came into the kitchen stopping short when he saw all the bottles lined up on the counter. "What the fuck is going on here?" He grumbled walking across to the counter and grabbing a glass.

"I wanted to be sure I caught you sober today." Peter moved over to the table. "Dinner will be ready in five."

"I'm not hungry and when did you turn into a nagging wife?" Garret complained.

"I'm not nagging, I just want you sober tonight, so we can talk," Peter grinned behind Garret's back.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asked as he poured a measure of scotch.

"Well let's start with that." Peter gestured to the glass in Garret hand. "Why?"

"Peter, I'm not an alcoholic." Garret stated baldly.

"Did I say you were?" Peter replied. "I just wondered why you were drinking twenty minutes after you got up."

"Because I feel like it." He answered.

"Okay, but humor me. Don't drink tonight." Peter wondered if he'd be able to make it without a drink. "So what have you been doing since you were suspended?"

"Peter, I haven't spent all my time drinking. I've even been exercising just like you use to nag me to do."

"I don't nag." Peter grinned. "I 'suggest'."

Garret poured out the scotch and sat down with a cup of coffee. "Nag." He smiled at Peter.

"Grouch."

"Pot."

"Kettle." They both laughed.

Peter decided the time was right to talk to Garret about coming out. "I talked to Jeannette last week." Garret had met Peter's younger sister while Peter still worked at the morgue.

"How is she, did she get accepted to Columbia Med.?" Garret had written a letter of recommendation for her.

"Yeah, she got in and told me to thank you for the letter." Peter took a deep breath. "I told her about us." Garret glared at him. "Garret, don't you think it's time to come out of the closet, at least with your friends and family?"

"Peter." Garret's tone held a warning to back off the subject.

Peter decided to try the other elephant in the room. "Talk to me about what's going on. Tell me why you won't fight for a job you love."

"Peter, I told you, I've got nothing left, nothing. I'm tapped out."

"Wrong, Garret, you've got one thing left."

"What?" He asked irritably.

"You've got me." Peter turned to the oven and pulled out the dinner. "If you still want me." He held his breath, afraid of the answer to that question. He felt Garret move up behind him and his hands turned Peter to face him.

"I do, don't I?" Garret pulled him close as Peter laid his head on Garret's shoulder.

"Yeah, you do." He whispered in Garret's ear. "For as long as you want me. Now are you gonna eat or did I slave over a hot stove for nothing?" He felt Garret begin to laugh, a real, honest, genuine laugh.

"Jesus, I missed you, Peter." Peter felt Garret's lips on his cheek, beginning to make their way back toward his ear. "Will it keep?" Garret's breath tickled his ear just before Peter felt him tracing the curves as he began to walk backwards toward the bedroom, pulling Peter with him.

"Oh yeah." Peter sighed in agreement following Garret back to the bedroom. Garret turned and backed him up until Peter felt the bed against the backs of his legs. _How the hell did he navigate like that while driving me up a wall?_ Peter wondered, and then decided he'd just be glad Garret was so good at multitasking. He felt a hand slip in the back on his pants, which were somehow now undone, to trace the sensitive skin at the base of his spine. Peter shivered at the sensation and moaned around Garret's tongue, which had found its way back to his mouth.

Peter slid his hands up Garret's back under his shirt, breaking the kiss to draw the shirt over his head. He tossed it in the corner and worked feverishly to get Garret stripped of the clothes he'd put on only a short time before. Stopping to inhale the combined scent of soap, shaving lotion and a smell that was uniquely Garret, Peter shivered at the feel of a hand sliding over him.

Sometime later Peter rolled over and looked at Garret. "You still got it, babe." He teased as Garret pulled him back up against his chest, wrapping his arms around Peter.

"Did you think maybe I'd forgotten how?" He felt Garret's smile against the back of his neck as he snuggled against Peter's long frame and Peter drifted off to sleep.

Peter woke later to the feel of Garret's slow, even breath on the back of his neck and turned, waking him with a kiss.

"What time is it?" Garret asked returning the kiss.

"Nine-thirty, dinner's probably a wash." Peter kissed him again and pulled back a little to look him in the eye. "Nice distraction there, but we're still going to talk."

"It was worth a shot." Garret grinned at him, the twinkle in his eye reminding Peter of a time before life had interrupted their affair.

"It was a dud," Peter grinned back. "But a very satisfying one."

Peter wasn't going to let Garret get past him. "Garret, what do you really want? Just think about the question, if there had been no Moreau case and you could still be the chief, would you?" Peter watched his eyes narrow as he considered the possibility, but didn't answer the question. Peter sighed, Garret always over analyzed things, it was his major weakness. "Are you really content to sit back and let Jack Slokum run your morgue and completely wreck the morale of your staff?"

"Peter, it's not a matter of what I want, it's a matter of what is." Garret pulled himself up and leaned back against the headboard. "I can't force the governor to reinstate me, I'm lucky they didn't indict me."

Peter sat up and turned to face Garret, knees to his chest. "Our family is hurting, they need you. You may not have been able to stay at the morgue, but you've deserted them. I can maybe believe that you don't want to fight for your job, but what I can't believe is that you don't want to fight for them."

Garret sighed. "Slokum's not a bad guy, just very rigid."

"He a tin-plated, swaggering, petty dictator with delusions of godhood." Peter spat back heatedly, then stopped to take a breath as he realized anger was getting the better of him. He hung his head and tried to calm himself. After a moment, he felt Garret's hand running through his hair.

"Does it mean that much to you, Peter?" He asked softly.

Peter looked up into the older man's eyes. "Does it mean that little to you, Garret?" He asked evenly. They sat looking at each other for several minutes before Garret finally looked away. Peter got up and pulled on his jeans.

"I'm going to get dinner; I'll make you a protein shake before I go." At the look on Garret's face, he grinned. "And you'll drink it, won't you?"

"Yes, wife." Garret teased.

Peter headed for the kitchen and put together the shake for Garret. As Garret came into the room, Peter looked up, "Okay this is protein, whey and green algae, let it run for two minutes and drink all of it. I'm gonna get Chinese, that okay with you?"

"Sounds good, but Peter, why am I drinking something that looks like it came out of the lab refrigerator?" Garret teased.

"Just make sure it's all gone when I get back and I don't mean down the sink." Peter kissed him and headed out, calling in their order on his way to the elevator.

Thirty minutes later, Peter juggled the bags and put his key in the lock. Opening the door, he stopped short at the sight of Jordan in a nice suit. She stared for a moment with her mouth open.

"Peter! What are you doing in Boston? What are you doing here?" She asked looking from Peter to Garret and back.

Peter looked at Garret and raised an eyebrow over the protein drink in Jordan's hand, then looked at Garret again, willing him to take advantage of the moment and finally tell his best friend about the two of them.

"Hi Jordan. Nice suit, very hot." He walked to the kitchen and put down the bags. "Are you gonna eat with us? I got more than enough." He looked at Garret. "Lo Lens didn't have any Kung Pao Chicken tonight, so you're stuck with General Tso's."

"Garret?" Peter heard the arch question in Jordan's voice as she turned to Garret.

"Jordan, I ... you might want to sit down for a minute." Garret said and Peter thought 'yesss'

"I'm gonna go grab a shower," he told the room at large and slipped off down the hall. Even though he'd told Lily, he'd like to see this, Garret and Jordan needed a little time to talk. He heard Garret's voice as an indistinct rumble.

"WHAT?" Peter had to grin at the sound of Jordan's voice.

He stripped and turned on the shower. Stepping under the hot spray, Peter wondered what Jordan's reaction would be and sighed over the necessity of having the same conversation with his mother and stepfather. He already knew their reaction in advance. His mother would cry and cling to him, begging him to find a nice girl who would change his mind.

She'd blame everything on Garret as the older man, leading her 'little boy' astray. His stepfather would order Peter out of the house never to return unless he mended his perverted ways. This was not going to be a pleasant family reunion on several levels. Thomas Winslow already judged Peter as weak and lacking moral fiber for being an addict; he would see this as confirmation of his theory that Peter was the 'bad seed'.

Jesus, why couldn't he just keep quiet, let them assume he was still in mourning over Allison and didn't want to date anyone else.

'_Suck it up Winslow; you know this is important to working your program. It's dicking around and not being honest that sent you back to the drugs. Shut up whining and do it. Its gonna hurt like hell, but if you can't do this you may as well get a standing reservation at rehab, cause you're gonna spend the rest of your life cycling.'_

He really hated the pushy, vocal conscience he'd grown in rehab this time around. The bastard sat in the back of his head and wouldn't let him bullshit himself anymore.

' _Speaking of which, you need to make amends for that little scene at the morgue this afternoon. Slokum was a prick for embarrassing you like that, but you weren't any better. You slammed his standing with his staff and may have damaged his self-esteem. Apology time boy, first thing tomorrow.'_

'But I don't want to apologize and besides he started it.' Peter argued with the voice and then realized what a whiny brat he sounded like. 'All right, I'll go talk to him tomorrow morning.'

'_Good boy.' _

His conscience turned away and Peter stuck a mental tongue out at it, and then laughed at himself. _'You may not use any more Winslow, but you're crazier than ever.'_ He thought as he rinsed off and grabbed a towel to wrap around himself.

He padded barefoot to the adjoining bedroom and grabbed his travel kit so that he could get rid of the thick stubble on his face. He looked in the mirror and decided that, except for his reaction to Slokum, he'd made it through another day without screwing up. 'One more down, the rest of my life to go.'

After he shaved, he walked back into the living room to find Jordan sitting, grinning at him as Garret loaded the plates with food and brought them over, then went back for beers for him and Jordan and a bottle of water for Peter.

"Well now I know where you disappeared to and why. Congratulations, by the way, Garret says you've made it 11 months this time around. So is that the reason for the water?"

"Yep, three more weeks and I'll be collecting a one year chip." Peter folded himself onto the floor and grabbed the water, taking a sip. "And no, the water is because I hate domestic beer, booze wasn't my drug of choice that was Oxycontin."

"So you two managed to hide this from everybody for how long?" Jordan asked both of them.

"Four months before I left, but not from everyone. Lily knew." Peter told her, glad that she seemed to be taking this so well.

Garret came over, sat on the couch beside Jordan, and listened.

"I can't believe you never told me, man." Jordan looked at Garret. "Does this mean you really are my bestest _girl_friend." Peter nearly choked on his water as Garret scowled at her.

"Don't push it, Jordan." He grumbled as Peter and Jordan laughed.

"So Garret's a switch hitter and you're?" Jordan asked Peter.

"Strictly DC now." Peter told her.

"Damn, guess that explains why my powers didn't work on you, huh?" Jordan grinned.

"Nope, they are quite impressive, but I've spent years manipulating people. Kind of hard to turn the tables on me." Peter said grinning. "I'm a junkie remember. Manipulation is what we do."

"Ex-junkie." Garret said.

"Recovering junkie." Peter countered, Garret hated to hear him refer to himself as an addict, he'd much rather keep it in the past. Peter understood that feeling, but he'd realized that he had to be completely honest with himself if he was going to stay clean. "Come on Garret, you know it as well as I do, Once an addict, always an addict. It's all about choosing not to use and learning the skills to stick with it."

The room was silent for several moments. "Sorry." Peter said. "Guess I pulled out the soapbox, huh?"

"I think you've earned a little pontificating." Jordan smiled. "Frisco, huh? What was that like?"

"Hell at first. Rehab is never fun, especially when they make you sing those stupid songs." Peter still couldn't get the sound of 'Lean On Me' out of his mind. "The halfway house was a real trip. It was in the Castro district and had a non-alcoholic nightclub next door. Great house band and some wild dancing."

"You always were a hell of a dancer, Peter." Jordan grinned, remembering the last Christmas party they'd had at the Pogue before Peter left and the sight of Peter and Nigel teaching Lily to skank to Less Than Jake.

"I can never get this one to go dancing." He gestured at Garret.

"Aww c'mon, Gar. You gotta try skanking." Jordan teased.

"No."

"Just once." She wheedled.

"Absolutely not."

"I'll go dancing with you, Peter." She offered. "The stick in the mud can sit at the table and watch."

"You've got a date, Jordan. Friday?" Peter suggested.

"Ten o'clock." Jordan agreed. "I'll meet you at The White Rabbit."

"I am not going to a gay nightclub." Garret interjected.

"Afraid someone will see you, sweetie?" Peter teased knowing exactly what his problem was.

"No, I hate techno." Peter mouthed the words as Garret said them, while Jordan laughed.

"Someday, somebody will open a gay jazz club and then I'll make him go and dance with me." Peter grinned.

For the rest of the evening, Jordan and Peter took turns teasing Garret and actually got a few laughs out of him. Peter relaxed a little to see him smiling and laughing with his best friend. It appeared that the rift between them was well on the way to healing and Garret seemed more comfortable now that he'd told Jordan the truth.

He'd even reached over and pulled Peter close. It was the fist time Garret had ever shown physical affection to him in front of another person and it took all Peter could do not to beam at the world in general. Just to be able to sit with his head against Garret's knee with someone else there, to have that semi-public act of laying claim made Peter happier than he'd been in months.

After Jordan left, Peter moved to the couch beside Garret. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

"No, I guess not." Garret conceded.

"See, a couple more times and you'll be as good at it as Ellen Degeneres." Peter teased.

"One more queer joke and I'll stuff you back into the closet." Garret threatened.

"Ooo, I love it when you go all butch, baby." Peter said in a high falsetto as Garret pinned him to the couch and began tickling him in retribution.

Peter finally got away from the fingers that left him gasping for breath. He lay with his head in Garret's lap. "So, are you gonna march with me on Gay Pride Day?"

"You're pushing your luck there, Pete." Garret rumbled using the nickname he knew Peter hated.

Peter grinned up at him, then tried again. "Garret, are you going to help with the Titleman case?"

Garret's sigh at the question reeked of frustration and surrender. "If I promise to call Renee will you stop nagging?" He smiled slightly.

"About this? Yes. About the booze? No. You drink too much, it's not healthy." Peter grinned. "You need that place Garret and those people and they need you." Peter sat up and pulled Garret to him. "And you need to be honest with yourself; you can't be the stoic tough guy all the time. You have to let yourself be vulnerable sometimes, let people know how much you love them. Let them in."

Peter reached for the phone and held it out to Garret. "When was the last time you called Abby, just to say 'I love you'?"

"I don't remember." Garret said looking ashamed.

"Then do it now. Take her out to dinner and get to know her. You both need it, and each other, more than you know."

"You've changed Peter, you weren't this grown up when you left. If I said no, you'd drop it. You're stronger, tougher and not as angry anymore. I like the changes." Garret kissed him and Peter felt an overwhelming relief, he'd been so worried that the changes he'd had to make would cause Garret to pull away from him.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer- I don't own them but tell me don't these two just seem to belong together?**

Peter woke early and slipped out of the apartment, he didn't want to talk to Slokum, but thought he should get it out of the way before Garret finished at Renee's office and showed up at the morgue.

He waited by the window near the reception desk for Dr. Slokum to show up, rehearsing what he would say to the man, knowing full well that he would receive, at best, complete silence as an answer. More likely Slokum would feel the need to reestablish his dominance over the morgue, attempting to reduce Peter to a nonentity by trying to embarrass him further in public. 'Stay cool, Winslow. This is not going to touch you.' He tried to psych himself for whatever Slokum decided to hit him with.

The elevator doors opened behind him as he watched a young bird fight the downdraft off the buildings trying to land on the opposite roof. 'I know the feeling, pal', he thought as the bird struggled.

"Good morning, Dr. Slokum." He heard the receptionist say and turned to see the man strutting across the reception area.

Peter caught up to him before he reached the doors leading into the morgue proper.

"Dr. Slokum?" He said, the man turning and beginning to sneer as he recognized Peter.

"Ah, the junkie doctor returns, didn't feel you'd had the final word yesterday, Doctor." Slokum's voice grated across Peter's nerves and he swallowed down the flash of anger and answered calmly and evenly.

"No sir, I came to make amends for my behavior yesterday. My treatment of you was very belittling of your authority and standing with your staff. I am sorry for any harm I may have caused, sir." Peter steeled himself for the diatribe he was certain would come and was amazed to see a light of sympathy in the shorter man's eyes.

"Would you join me in my office, Dr. Winslow?" Peter was surprised to hear his title spoken without disdain by the man.

He nodded and followed Slokum to the door, which now had a keypad lock. The interim chief punched in his code and held the door for Peter, then preceded him to the office that had been Garret's. Peter entered behind Slokum wondering why he would invite Peter to his office instead of reaming him out publicly. The older man shut the door behind Peter and motioned for him to sit down.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Dr. Winslow?" Slokum asked.

"No thank you, sir." Peter tried to imagine what motive Slokum could have for this abrupt change in demeanor.

"I'll imagine that public apology took a great deal of practice." Slokum said evenly, Peter raised an eyebrow at the man's calm look. "Making amends hurts like hell sometimes, doesn't it? Especially when you were only reacting to provocation."

Peter gaped at the man. 'What the hell?' He thought.

Slokum reached in his pocket and pulled out a small metal disc, laying it on the coffee table he sat back and said, "Twelve years. How many for you?"

Peter suddenly realized what was happening and looked over at the man. "In three weeks it will be one year, sir."

"Congratulations son, that was my hardest one. I failed twice before I made it." He looked Peter over and continued. "I'm the one who should be making amends, Peter. I am an arrogant prick and I know it. I felt threatened because you were here under Macy's tenure and I don't want any breath of mutiny to creep into this place. I'm not in a very tenable position here; Macy was quite popular and has been missed by all of the staff."

Slokum stood and walked to the window. "I'm not a likable person, I can't lead through a cult of the personality, so I use the tools I have. Having to choose, I chose fear and intimidation. Not very admirable I know, but there it is. I am very sorry for my behavior and also for that fact that I am unable to make a public apology for that behavior, but I hope you will understand and accept a private one." He turned to Peter and smiled, actually a very pleasant smile, before again assuming the facade of a cocksure arrogant little asshole. "Now about that job, Doctor."

"I'm not here for a job, sir." Peter began.

"I assume that you either therefore are already employed or are independently wealthy?"

"Neither, sir." Peter answered.

"Then we'll consider your old application as still in effect. You'll be a rehire and therefore the process won't take more than a day or so. If you'll fax me your current resume, I'll start the paperwork and expect you to report for work Monday morning. Good day, Doctor." He opened the door and motioned Peter out, closing it behind him.

Peter stood in the hall trying to understand what had just happened. As he went over the entire conversation, he heard his name called, turning he saw Bug and Nigel motioning him to their joint office. As he entered, he found himself engulfed by the arms of the lanky Brit.

"Peter, what wind blew you back to our doorstep?" Nigel asked after releasing him.

"I think I just got my job back." Peter said astonished at the haircut Nigel was sporting. It appeared Slokum had even managed to suppress the normally ebullient ex soldier.

"Say what?" Nigel said.

"Yeah, I came in to apologize for yesterday and he pretty much made me take a job." Peter was still in shock over Slokum's action.

"So you ream him out and he hires you?" Nigel said. "Perhaps I've been using the wrong tactics."

Peter perched on the edge of Nigel's desk as Lily entered and gave Peter a hug. He noticed the look that passed between Nigel and Bug, realizing they thought there was something between him and Lily. They'd be surprised when they learned which former coworker had Peter's full attention, if Garret followed through on last night and told all his friends.

"So, where did you disappear to, my lad?" Nigel asked.

"Drug rehab in San Francisco." Peter answered honestly. "Then a halfway house and a job with their ME's office."

"So you've been fighting the good fight out there and being a thorn in their flesh, eh?" Peter grinned; Nigel's wry and twisted humor had been another thing he'd missed.

"Yeah, I just got back to town early yesterday morning." Peter slipped an arm around Lily as she sat beside him and Nigel arched an eyebrow.

"Home to Mater and Pater and the comforts of wealth and privilege." Nigel tweaked him.

"No I haven't seen my parents and am not likely to, my stepfather's not too fond of having an addict in the family." Peter immediately wished he said anything else when he saw the looks of sympathy. "Relax guys; I'm not worried about it. They'll come around or they won't. I'll still be me."

He grinned as Jordan entered the area and announced that Garret wouldn't be returning. Peter tried not to smile, knowing the surprise in store for the crew. It became easier to contain his amusement when Jordan went head to head with Slokum before being rushed off by Sydney.

After Slokum left the room, the group burst out laughing at Jordan's long awaited blow up at Slokum. Peter didn't join in, having a new insight into the man and understanding the pressure he felt. Suddenly, there was a buzz of conversation down the hall that drew their attention and they all looked to see Garret strutting toward autopsy one where Slokum was working on Oliver Titleman's stepfather.

Peter stuck around only long enough to learn that Garret would be working on the case and then slipped away to drive to his parents home and drop his own little bomb on them. He thought perhaps first he would visit his older sister Marta and talk things over with her. He was fairly sure she would take his revelation in stride and having a pleasant conversation before seeing his parents would help.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer- Santa obviously didn't get my letter in time, so I didn't find the rights to CJ in my stocking. Oh well, on with the fic.**

**Author's Note- This super fast update is a thank you to jtbwriter and Floating On Cloud 9, who have reviewed so faithfully and promptly.**

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Several hours later, Peter sat in his parents' living room waiting for them to come downstairs. The butler had given him a cold look as he showed him in and Peter expected more of the same from his stepfather. He stood and began pacing, as the wait grew longer. The calm, satisfied feeling from his talk with Marta had evaporated the moment the front door opened and he'd stepped inside this mausoleum. The house had always felt cold and unwelcoming to Peter with the exception of his mother's sitting room, which was as warm as she was.

"Petya, you are finally home." His mother entered the room, took his hands and kissed his cheeks, calling him by the name she'd always used. For a moment, at the sound of the Czech diminutive, he thought again about not telling them, but before his conscience could start to berate him, his stepfather entered.

"Peter." He nodded toward him and held out his hand. Peter crossed the room and shook it. Thomas Winslow never walked over to greet someone. Like Mohammad, the mountain came to him.

"How are you, sir?"

'_Okay they're both here, so tell them.' _

He'd hoped his conscience would stay out of this

"Better now that you are back, your mother has been quite distracting with her concerns over you." Thomas Winslow was possibly the stiffest, coldest man Peter had ever known, but his one redeeming characteristic was the fact that he loved Peter's mother completely. "Where are your bags? I'll have the butler take them to your rooms."

"I won't be staying here, sir. I've already found a place."

'_Get it over with, Winslow.' _

'Butt out.' He thought.

"I see and have you found work as well? You know Robert Hampton is still looking for a partner for his practice." Winslow would have as a matter of course made certain word of Peter's whereabouts had been suppressed.

"Yes sir, I'll be returning to the coroner's office, starting Monday." He could see the displeasure in his stepfather's eyes at that announcement, but wasn't concerned. The man would have more to be displeased about soon enough.

'_DO IT!' _

'Shut up.' The voice finally seemed to listen.

"Mother, sir, I have something I need to tell you." Peter took a deep breath. "It's about where I'm staying. I'll be living with someone very special to me."

"Oh, Petya, I'm so glad to hear that. You must bring her to dinner. Why didn't you bring her tonight, you naughty boy?" His mother was beaming. "What is her name? You know I don't approve of living together, you really should marry the girl, if you love her."

"Well I'm glad to see you've gotten past mourning Allison." Thomas said. "Who is this girl? Who are her family?"

"Please just sit down and listen." Peter said with more vehemence than he'd intended.

His mother and stepfather looked stunned, but sat down quietly, looking at him expectantly. His stomach was in knots. He was certain this would be his last conversation with his parents. The tension became so great that he paced, running his hands through his hair as he began. "I... I... SHIT! I'm gay alright; the someone I'm living with is a man. I know you're not going to approve, but I love him."

Peter knew he was babbling, but needed to try and make them understand before they had a chance to pass judgment. "He's strong and smart and gentle and perfect, Damnit! He's the most wonderful, beautiful person I've ever known and he loves me in spite of how screwed up I am, so go ahead and tell me how disappointed you are and get it over with, but I'm not crazy and I'm not high, I'm in lo–"

Peter stopped short as his stepfather rose from the sofa, looked at his wife and left the room without a word. Peter turned to his mother and fought back the tears that threatened to spill out.

"Matka?" His voice broke as he used the name he'd called her when he was small without even realizing it.

"Peter, I think you should go." Peter felt the English form of his name like a knife; he'd never been Peter to his mother, even when she'd learned of his drug problem, she'd called him Petya.

She stood and walked to the door of the living room. She grasped the doorframe for support and Peter rushed to her side. She shrugged off his hand and looked at him as though he were diseased, a leper. "You know that you must no longer come here. If you decide to come to your senses, we will of course welcome you home. Until that time…" She walked away without another word.

For several hours, Peter drove without thinking, paying no attention to where he was. There was no point going to the apartment, Garret would probably be busy with the Titleman case. He drove over most of Boston Proper aimlessly, alternating between crying and cursing.

Suddenly he realized he'd cruised the same block in Southie four times. He recognized the buildings and knew where he was. He had driven to the last place he'd scored before going into rehab. He pulled over to the curb and sat shaking and crying, his hands close to putting permanent indentations in the wheel.

He waited for his conscience to kick in and start ordering him to a meeting, but it was strangely silent; somehow, that only scared him more. As he sat on the verge of getting out and going into the bar he'd gone to the last time he'd come here, there was a knock on the window. He looked out at the man standing there and rolled the window down an inch.

"Yeah."

"You looking for a ticket to fly, man?"

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**A/N- Just makes you want to smack Peter, doesn't it?**  



	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer- Not mine, but a girl can dream, can't she?**

**Author's Note- Things are just a tiny bit smutty in this chapter, but I don't think it will be too much for you guys. Enjoy! **

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Peter started to reach for his wallet, when a young woman came stumbling out of the alley across from his car and started vomiting in the street. He flashed back to himself a year ago, lying in an alley surrounded by garbage and worse, puking his guts out.

"NO!" Peter threw the car in gear and left a good portion of his tires as he floored it and quickly left Southie behind. He drove to Lily's apartment and pounded on the door repeatedly, heedless of the neighbors screaming at him to quiet down.

"Peter!" Lily exclaimed as she opened the door, clad in her pajamas. Peter reached blindly for her and began to cry as she led him into her apartment. It was several minutes before he could do anything but cling to his friend sobbing. When he finally calmed down and relaxed his hold on her, she took his face in her hands and turned him to make eye contact.

"Peter, what happened? What's wrong?" He realized she had tears in her eyes.

"Lily, go with me to a meeting. Please, I really need to go and I'm scared to go back out there by myself." He swallowed the lump in his throat and felt the tears welling up again. He looked down at his hands shaking furiously, partly from fear but mostly from need. Not a physical need, but a psychological craving that clawed at his soul and threatened to tear him apart. "Oh, shit, I can't go out there again, Lily, please."

"Of course I will Peter, but what happened?"

"I," He drew in a shuddering breath. "I went to my parents' house tonight. I told them about Garret and I, they..., it was awful, Lily. My stepfather didn't say a word, wouldn't even look at me. He just looked at my mother and left the room." Peter felt the hot tears beginning to slide down his cheeks again. "My mother told me to go…." He choked back a sob. "She said I wasn't welcome until I came to my senses. She called me Peter... she wouldn't even call me Petya, just Peter, as if she barely knew me... I... she...she turned her back on me wouldn't even let me touch her. As if I was something filthy, she'd picked up on her shoe. I drove around and I was in Southie. Back in the neighborhood I used to go to and I… Jesus, Lily I wanted a hit so bad…" He began to sob again and was just barely aware of her arms around him.

"But you didn't, Peter, you didn't do it. You walked away, you made it, Peter." Lily was stroking his hair and rocking back and forth. "Come on, we'll find a meeting, I'll go with you."

Peter stood unsteadily and followed her to the door, barely aware of moving, numbly handed her the keys to his car and got into the passenger seat. He leaned his head against the window as Lily started the car and drove while dialing her cell. He only distantly heard her request for information on the closest NA meeting.

"There's one at Christ Church in twenty minutes, Peter. We'll be there in about fifteen." He nodded and laid his head back on the window. Lily put down her cell and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

"I'm sorry, Lily." He said finally, embarrassed that he'd broken down so totally and frightened her.

"For what, Peter?"

"For scaring you, I can't imagine you enjoying having a friend show up at 1 AM, on the edge of a breakdown." He smiled weakly.

"Well, I prefer it to having that same friend show up tomorrow morning on a gurney."

"I think given a choice between the two that would be my pick as well." He laughed slightly, and then frowned. "I still can't believe how close I came, Lily. I was reaching for my wallet and this girl staggered around the corner. God she looked like Allison. She just stood there in the street throwing up and I saw myself doing the same thing a year ago. I just… I think I left half my tire treads on the pavement."

"You walked away, Peter, that's what's important. You walked away." Lily squeezed his hand. "You had enough willpower to walk away and get help."

He smiled at her, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, beautiful."

"For what?" He could see her blush in the light of the dashboard.

"For being you, sweetheart. For being my sweet Lily." He looked at her. "Um, Lily?"

"Yes Peter."

"You do realize that you're still wearing pajamas, right?" He grinned. "Not that the Frog Prince isn't cute but..."

She blushed furiously. "Oh well if they haven't seen a woman in pajamas at an NA meeting before, then I'll be the highlight of the night, won't I?" They both laughed as Lily turned into the parking lot.

Peter and Lily sat through two meetings and in between Peter managed to find a Boston sponsor. After the second meeting broke up, they went to an all night diner for breakfast. Peter tried to convince Lily to go home to bed or at least to change, but she insisted on staying with him, grabbing a pair of jeans from the bag she kept in the trunk of her car. Sunrise found them sitting on a rock by the boat lake at Boston Common, talking about everything and nothing. Peter suddenly straightened nearly knocking Lily off the rock.

"What?" She exclaimed as he caught her.

"You've gotta be at work in an hour, Lily and Dr. Slokum will have a snit if you're late."

Lily calmly pulled her cell phone out and dialed. "Sydney? Hi, it's Lily. Tell Dr. Macy, I had a family emergency and am taking the day off. Thanks." She hung up and grinned at Peter.

"Family emergency, huh?" He grinned back.

"Yeah, my baby brother needs me." Lily wrinkled her nose.

"Baby? Since when am I the baby?" He laughed.

"Since I was born in March and your birthday's not until December."

"Wow, nine whole months. Can I grow up to be just like you?" Peter batted his eyes at the laughing woman who proceeded to shove him off the rock and clasped her hands over her head in victory.

Peter sat on the ground looking up at her and announced, "I'm hungry again, last one to the car pays for breakfast." He jumped up and ran for the car, turning to see Lily scramble down the rock and struggle to catch up. He waited for her at the top of the path and grabbed her as she tried to pass him. Scooping her up over his shoulder, he continued up the slope while Lily kicked and giggled uncontrollably.

"Peter, let me down." She squealed breathlessly just as a police car stopped in front of them.

"Is there a problem here?" The officer asked after rolling down the window.

Peter lowered Lily to the ground. "No officer, we were just, um…"

Lily answered quickly. "No sir, we were just cutting up a little."

The cop shook his head and both of them distinctly heard 'Kids' as the car window rolled up and the officer pulled away. Peter looked at Lily and they both started laughing again.

"That's what we get for acting like a couple of goofy teenagers at thirty years old." Lily said still giggling as they headed for the car.

As they settled in Peter looked at Lily, suddenly realizing just what she'd said on the phone. "Wait a minute; you said 'tell Dr Macy'? Garret's back?"

Lily nodded. "I forgot you didn't know, Garret caught Oliver Titleman and Dr. Slokum stepped aside. Garret is chief ME again."

"Jesus, I haven't called Garret, he has no idea where I am or what happened." Peter exclaimed.

"I called him after the first meeting and told him where we were and that we'd see him later." Lily smiled. "You were just a little distracted."

"Why don't we go kidnap him for breakfast?" Peter said. "I feel like celebrating all of a sudden."

"Are you sure you're okay Peter?" Lily took his hand, concern in her voice. "You don't get over something like last night quickly."

"I'm not completely over it, Lily and I'm not trying to mask what I'm feeling. What my parents did hurts like hell and coming so close to using scares the shit out of me. I mean, what if I can't hack it out here in the world. I feel like I'm on a tight rope without a net and it's a fucking long way down." Peter took a deep breath. "But right now, I just want to be happy for Garret and take a breather from the other shit for a while and then look at it again after a few hours sleep."

"That makes sense to me." Lily smiled and Peter thought it was like sunshine after the rain, warm, surprising and just the perfect counterpoint to the ache he felt inside.

When they walked into Garret and Peter's apartment, Garret was showering. Peter sat on the bed waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. He entered the room wearing a towel, still warm from the shower and crossed to Peter. Pulling him close, he simply held him.

"Are you alright, Peter?" He could feel Garret's eyes searching for any sign that Peter was still feeling shaky or unsure.

Peter pushed the remnants of his fear and pain to the side, Garret deserved a celebration today not more worry about whether or not Peter was going to be pushed to the edge again.

"I'm doing pretty good, not perfect, but a hell of a lot better than I was." He saw Garret's eyes narrow. "I promise, its okay, Garret." Peter backed up enough to look Garret up and down. "You know, if Lily weren't in the living room waiting to go to breakfast with us, I could think of a whole other way to celebrate your job." He ran his fingers down Garret's chest to the top of the towel playing with the knot.

"So could I." Garret pushed his knee between Peter's legs and leaned his thigh against Peter's crotch.

Peter leaned into it and moaned. "Lily? Who's Lily?" He slid down, pulled the towel with him, pushed Garret down on the bed, and took him in his mouth.

Afterward, Garret pulled him up beside him and kissed him hard, his chest still heaving. "What was that for?"

"A congratulations blow job." Peter grinned.

"Beats the hell out of a card." Garret kissed him again and rose to dress. Peter watched him cross to the closet, enjoying the view as he walked and bent over to get his socks and underwear out of the drawer. He gave a low whistle and laughed when Garret blushed.

"You blush when I whistle at you but not when I'm on my knees in front of you?"

"The blood is a little busy elsewhere." Garret gave him a crooked grin. "Besides embarrassment is the last thing on my mind when you do that."

Peter groaned at the sight of Garret's boxers. "I am buying you new underwear, today."

"No, I've told you before; I will not wear anything but boxers. No briefs, no boxer briefs and certainly no bikinis." Peter shook his head.

"You are just way to old fashioned; Gar and I'll bet you'll wear what I buy you."

"It's a bet. Loser does laundry for a month." Garret stuck out his hand to shake on it, but Peter shook his head.

"Loser indulges winner in one fantasy." Garret looked a little frightened at that and frowned.

"I don't think so, you are entirely too warped for me to agree to those stakes."

Peter smiled. "What if I tell you my fantasy in advance?" Garret quirked an eyebrow and nodded.

"I want to make love with you in front of a roaring fire all weekend." Garret looked surprised. "Hey, I didn't say favorite fantasy. Besides, how would we fit the Vienna Boys Choir and a herd of Llamas in here?" Peter fell over on the bed laughing at the horrified look on Garret's face. "Gotcha." He gasped out.

Garret rolled his eyes and finished dressing. Then walked over to the bed and kissed Peter, pulling him up. "How fast can you shower, 'cause buddy, you need it."

"Give me five minutes and I'll be ready." Peter stripped as he headed to the shower, throwing his clothes behind him.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer- I bought them with my Christmas money. Yeah, right!**

**Author's Note- I invite any lurkers on this story to come on out and have your say, even if you hate it, but please tell me specifics, reviews are a wonderful thing but reviews that tell me what you like and don't like are a godsend.**

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Peter had been so happy that day, so excited, Garret and he were both going back to work and Garret had started telling the people who mattered about their relationship. Soon they wouldn't have to hide, at least not around their friends. However, days slipped into one week and then a month and Garret still hadn't told anyone but Jordan. Peter didn't want to push him, but the constant hiding and secrecy were wearing him down.

Then there were the returned letters he'd written to his mother. He'd hoped she would soften given a little time, but according to Marta and Jeannette, she still refused to have his name spoken around her. His sisters had tried to talk to her about Peter, but she had refused.

Jeannette had let it slip that all the photos of Peter had been taken down in the house and a new family portrait had been commissioned. His mother was having the portrait that had hung for years in the formal living room redone without Peter. She was erasing him from the family as though he'd never existed. He had no family left except Jeannette and Marta and he could not share the most important relationship in his life with his friends.

He did everything he could to hide his pain from Garret, who had enough going on, getting back into the groove at work with Slokum still breathing down his neck. He didn't need worry about Peter and his mental and emotional stability on top of it. Peter put on a satisfied demeanor around everyone until it became second nature. That annoying conscience had grumbled at first, bitching him out constantly, but lately, it had been quiet.

His sponsor kept harping on making his insides match his outsides and Peter tried to make the two agree, but the longer things went on this way the more stressed he became. He thought about going to Dr. Stiles, but he'd never been comfortable with the state psychiatrist. The man was too dangerous for Peter to talk to; one negative report and he'd be out of a job.

Sometimes he felt like a guitar string, stung so tightly that the least change in his environment started his nerves humming in a way that set his teeth on edge. His jaw ached constantly from clenching it and he'd barely been able to eat. This morning had been the beginning of a horrible day, he'd had a case that was supposed to be very simple, a man in his fifties had died in his sleep and Peter got the pick up.

He drove to Savan Hill and found the man's life partner sitting by the bedside still holding the dead man's hand. Downstairs the two men's families and friends were already gathering. He'd transported the remains back to the morgue and asked Bug if he could do the sign out and headed out for an early lunch, which he couldn't share with Garret because the Chief ME was downtown lunching with Renee Walcott.

Peter ate and decided to stroll through Boston Garden and take the afternoon off; he called Jordan to get an okay and was told to stay available until 4pm. So, he headed off to check out the Garden and Common and do a little shopping.

As he walked the Commons, he thought about what he'd seen this morning. The dead man had been open with his friends and his family; his partner had a big support system to help him through the loss of his lover. If something happened to Garret, Peter would have only a few people who would know and understand why his boss' death would devastate him.

Because of Garret's inability to talk to his friends, Peter was left unable to share things with people who mattered to him. It was had been weighing on him heavily that he couldn't share his happiness with his friends. He really didn't want to 'talk' Garret into anything; he wanted him to tell people because he was happy, not because Peter nagged him into it.

Peter was walking past a bistro in the shopping district when he saw his mother walking out. She looked past him to the cab on the curb; Peter knew she saw him, but she refused to acknowledge at him and the cab pulled away. He stood there for a long time and then walked numbly away

Peter sat two spoons in his trembling hand. The pills were nestled snugly into one, the back of the second pushing down ever so slightly, just enough to crush them a little at a time. A little bit more, and a little bit more, grinding them up into a fine powder. He ground it down until it wouldn't grind anymore, and then tapped the powder out onto the desk in front of him.

He maneuvered it into two neat parallel lines with a credit card, forming and reforming them multiple times, before settling with two nice sized lines. He toyed with the dollar bill in his hand, rolling it, unrolling it, folding it. He put his head down and placed one finger against a nostril as he placed the dollar bill into the familiar position.

He hesitated, leaning back. He had avoided this for how long? But he needed it. Things had gone horribly wrong. He'd lost his parents for Garret. Garret, who said he would tell people but who hadn't told anyone except Jordan. He was tired of hiding in the closet with Garret. He needed to be in the open, this hiding shit and evading his friends when they asked where he was staying had worn his nerves completely through. Seeing his mother today had been the last thing he could stand.

What was the point of struggling to stay clean, if even his own mother couldn't love him? He'd felt the pain choking him, it was choking him still. He needed something to help him cope. He leaned back down, hovering over one of the two lines as the door opened. "Peter?" The deep voice asked and he pulled back again. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Peter jumped at the sound and the fine powder blew across the desk. "Fuck."

Garret crossed the room and grabbed Peter by the collar, hauling him up out of the chair and spinning him around. "What. In. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing." Garret punctuated each word with a finger in Peter's chest.

It was the last straw for Peter, he shoved Garret back and stood, fists clenched. "Whatever the fuck I please. Back off, just leave me alone. I don't need you or the goddamned voice in my head telling me what I do and don't need. What I can and can't do. It's just one Goddamned hit. I just need to take the edge off a little." Peter turned and headed to the door, intent on leaving.

Garret was back on his feet and moving, Peter could hear him behind him. Garret's hand on his shoulder spun him around to face him. "Don't fucking walk out of here, you little shit. I want to know what the fuck you think you're doing. How can you be so stupid to screw up all the hard work you've put into getting clean and staying clean?"

"Just back the fuck off, Garret. I needed that hit and you made me waste it. What right do you have to be so fucking self-righteous. You walk around acting like King Shit at the morgue and you don't even care enough about me to tell the truth to our friends. You come home and drink to take the edge off and I'm just supposed to suck it up and handle the rough shit without anything to help me chill." Peter turned to the door again.

Suddenly he felt himself slammed into the wall a hand grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm up behind him, holding him in place. He felt Garret's breath in his ear.

"Is that what you want, Peter? To slide back into the gutter? Because if it is, pack your shit and go. I played this game once, I won't do it again. I'm done playing straight man to a drama queen." Garret spun him back around and held him by his shirt, pressed so hard against the wall he could hardly breath. "But if you walk out, Peter, there's no turning back. You step through that door and we are through."

Peter could hardly believe that this was happening, like a slap in the face, Garret's words cut through the fog in his mind. His eyes flicked to the desk covered in white powder and back to Garret. He could tell Garret had seen the movement.

"Choose Peter, which matters more? Us or that shit." Garret released him so suddenly that he didn't have the energy to hold himself up. He slid down the wall, his head dropping to his hands. The last month finally crashing down on him, all the pain he'd tried to push aside welling up and cresting over him like a wave. He cringed in anticipation of the blow.

"Garret..." His voice broke and he couldn't hold the tears in any longer. He was dimly aware of Garret's arms around him as he broke down completely. Crying for himself and all he'd lost and could still lose. The tears and frustration of every mistake he'd made left him shuddering weakly in Garret's arms, feeling as though he would evaporate with the last tear, nothing left but an empty shell of a life.

"Please, Garret, don't give up on me. Please… I… I…" He began to cry again, the rational part of his mind amazed that there could be another tear left. Surely by now he'd used up every one his body could produce and yet they still fell. He wondered how this could be all that was left of the hope he'd had just a month before.

Finally, Peter began to calm enough to be aware that, while he'd cried on the floor in Garret's arms over an hour had passed. As he brought up his hand to wipe his face, he saw the tremors, like palsy, running through it. The floor was hard and cold, but he didn't have the energy to get up and walk the few steps to the couch. He tried twice to stand, but slumped back to the floor, until Garret's hand was thrust in front of his face.

He reached out and felt the strength as the older man all but lifted him up. He staggered a drunken step or two and there was Garret, shoulder under his arm holding him up, guiding him gently to the bedroom. He laid Peter on the bed and left for a moment. Peter, too exhausted to even raise his head from the pillow, waited to see if he'd return. Or if the path he had almost had taken had disgusted Garret so much that he'd left.

After a few moments, Peter felt a cool cloth laid over his eyes and the shifting of the mattress as Garret stretched out beside him, gathering him into his arms and stroking his hair.

"Peter, it's okay. You'll be all right. I'm right here, just go to sleep. We'll work it out later, just sleep now." The low, rough, velvet of Garret's voice eased him down into sleep.

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**A/N- Any thoughts on this?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer- Alas, yet another fic draws to a close without ownership passing into my hands. Oh well, there is still the lottery for me to win so I can buy them.**

**Author's Note- A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, I love reviews, they feed my ego and I love to find out what other writers think of my work. Even bad reviews are welcome, because they show me where I need to improve. A special thanks to jtbwriter and Float-On-Cloud-9 for reviewing each and every chapter. Your words of encouragement have helped more than you know. A special thank you also to rae11 who pointed out an error in chapter three. Oops. Also to WIWJ tahnk you for a great big fat juicy review, they are my favorite kind.  
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Peter woke early the next morning and after showering quietly, he went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water to take on his morning run. He left Garret sleeping and headed out to try and run off the frustration and work through the reasons he'd almost failed.

After an hour of running, Peter felt a lot clearer about where he was at emotionally. He knew that he was going to have to have a long talk with Garret about hiding their relationship from almost everyone. He didn't expect Garret to be open to the world in general, but Peter couldn't stay hidden with their friends any longer. It was stress that he didn't need and it was affecting his recovery.

He looked at his surroundings, realizing how close he was to the morgue. May as well continue the run in that direction, he could shower and change there and get a head start on the paperwork for his last few cases.

Forty minutes later, Peter was in trace helping Bug and Nigel with a stabbing victim that had come in early that morning. The boys were seated at the monitor of the trace computer waiting for the results of the tox screen to come up as Peter finished cutting the clothes off the body when the door slammed open across from him and Garret stormed in looking like a thunder cloud.

"Where the hell were you this morning? I wake up and you're not there and no note to be found. That was damned inconsiderate of you, Peter. You should have known what I'd think after last night." Garret moved around the table not even noticing Bug and Nigel who were sitting with shocked but slowly comprehending expressions as Garret's words sunk in. "You scared the shit out of me. I thought you'd left, that you'd…" Garret stopped as he saw the grin spreading across Peter's face at the realization that Garret had just outed their relationship to the Nige and Bug.

"What the hell is so damn funny, Peter?" Garret sputtered out and Peter pointed in the direction of their two very interested friends.

"I got one thing I wanted." He could barely contain his laughter at the look on Garret's face as he turned and realized that they weren't alone. For a moment Peter wasn't sure what his reaction would be and then he saw the wicked glint in Garret's eyes.

"So now I'll get what I want." He said as he moved closer to Peter.

Peter felt Garret push a hand through his hair and kiss him hard, leaving him breathless. Then Garret turned and walked out of the room, leaving a very stunned Bug and an applauding Nigel.

Peter turned and looked at the two as Nigel spoke up. "Well now, that was certainly not the ending I would have expected. I suppose congratulations are in order, though if I were to lay odds, I'd have said Lily had caught your fancy, not Dr. M." Nigel raised an eyebrow and continued. "You certainly surprise me."

"Why?" Peter said finally able to speak, he hadn't expected Garret to kiss him in public, but was very happy he had. That one action had eased a lot of the pain Peter had felt for the last month. It wasn't a cure for his problems, but it certainly helped him feel more hopeful.

"Because, luv, not only do you turn out to be a 'friend of Dorothy', but you've shown us an entirely new side to Macy. Bravo, Peter and welcome back to the family."

Nigel's words echoed in Peter's head for the rest of the day and as he laid beside Garret that night watching him sleep, he smiled. The morgue was another part of his family and even though it might take some time to get over the pain of his mother and stepfather's decision to cut him out of their lives, he still had a family and Garret. He could make it, he knew it wouldn't be easy to deal with the psychological addiction and that he'd be fighting that battle the rest of his life, but the support of his lover and his friends would be a big help. 'I am home', he thought slipping an arm around the sleeping man beside him and feeling a sense of peace as he drifted off to sleep.

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**A/N- I really enjoyed writing this fic and if you like to know the web address where you can read the uncut , full smut version, email me at the address on my profile page. Please don't forget to feed the author her review, she gets so cranky when she's hungry.**  



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